you know, i really hate this color scheme, but it's difficult to mess around much with the coding of this blog because there's so damn much of it.

other things have happened. big things. exciting things.

not really.

i lost my latin homework, and i spent two hours searching for it. this pushed back the beginning of my essay to 11. i can't do this...i might, but i'm not sure if i want to stay up for the next two hours doing this, or just tell mr. Myer that i left it at home.

i still haven't found my latin book, i'm praying that it's at school, but it's not. i'm pretty sure i didn't take it to school today and i had it the night before. oh god, what am i gonna do. i have a gopo presentation thursday, which is gonna bomb. it's going to absolutely suck, i haven't started on it at all.

no more tv. no more. not at all. never more.
tv killed the radio star.
i am tv.
i am tv.
i am tv.
i am tv.
i am tv.
i am tv.

make-up piano lesson, all is well.

well at least 5.5 hours of homework. the kind that needs t.v. free attention.

damn *sigh*
oh well, "bang bang"

i was 5 he was 6
we rode on horses made of sticks
i wore black he wore white
he would always win the fight

bang bang, he shot me down.
bang bang, i hit the ground.
bang bang,that awful sound.
bang bang, my baby shot me....... down

seasons came and changed the time
and i grew up, i called him mine
he would always laugh and say
"rememeber when we used to play".

bang bang,i shot you down
bang bang,you hit the ground
bang bang, that awful sound
bang bang, i used to shoot you down

music played and people sang
just for me the church bells rang
hey...hey...hey...hey

now he's gone i don't know why
till this day, sometimes i cry
he didn't even say goodbye
he didn't take the time to lie

bang bang, he shot me down.
bang bang, i hit the ground.
bang bang,that awful sound.
bang bang, my baby shot me....... down

i don't know shit about cher, but the nancy sinatra cover is....spine tingling.

hmm.

my mom and i are on speaking terms again.

it's funny because i've never been consistently pissed at her before for more than a day.

i'm still frustrated.

i don't know how to say this.

it's nothing of particular importance, it's just a baffling sense of...

my my my, how the pseudo-poet can be so effectively rendered insufficient. what am i: i don't know. i'm frustrated for so many stupid reasons. i kind of find myself sitting in the background meagerly trying my best to effect change by the power of my pissed off little demeanor.

inadequate.
nostra exitio?

no. god i wish. i wish i was something bigger than myself. i wish i could do something but i can't. i am a consequence. i was designed to sit in the back and live within the boundaries of my own little universe. let the important people use me as a back drop bounce their lives off of me when necessary.

but there are no important people. my current semi plight has walked me into a somewhat truer sense of how futile it all is. i want to live with in the warmth of a divine love. but is that it? live a life by virtue yet make no other mark on the earth and earn a spot in some divine net of light and fuzziness? i don't think i was made for heavan.

i mean who's to say what god's wonders are...all that good stuff. maybe i need to experience more life before i can be fully qualified to want to escape it. but if i should die before i wake...

i was always horribly afraid of the concept of death. i was around three or four, i heard something about people dying in their sleep. so being the little genius i was i would evade bed time as long as possible, hoping to lower the probability of my sleepy jack death.

what's worth it? everything feels so small nowadays. and the things that are big are too far away. i'm lonely. i'm lonely and ready to sleep.

this is why i shouldn't be by myself for so long.

"i am the walrus"

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.
See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly.
I'm crying.

Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.
Corporation tee-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday.
Man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo goo joob

Mister City Policeman sitting
Pretty little policemen in a row.
See how they fly like Lucy in the Sky, see how they run.
I'm crying, I'm crying.
I'm crying, I'm crying.

Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog's eye.
Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess,
Boy, you been a naughty girl you let your knickers down.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo goo joob.

Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun.
If the sun don't come, you get a tan
From standing in the English rain.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo goo joob goo goo goo joob.

Expert textpert choking smokers,
Don't you thing the joker laughs at you?
See how they smile like pigs in a sty,
See how they snied.
I'm crying.

Semolina pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower.
Elementary penguin singing Hari Krishna.
Man, you should have seen the kicking Edgar Allan Poe.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo goo joob goo goo goo joob, goo goo goo joob goo goo goo joob goo goo gooooooooooooo joooooooob

-the beatles

inadequate.
gooooo joooooob

i missed my piano lesson

and it was someone else's fualt (my mom).

i'm not really one to dish out blame, so you know i am a truth speaker.

~pissed
~lonely
~bitter

~entertained

...

muscles and toses and roses and poses i'm falling into a[~|balance|ecnalab|~] sand pit filled with lions and pythons and clip on ties for little men with little mouths and little souls...

sanctuary
sanctuary
sanctuary
sanctuary
sanctuary
sanctuary
sanctuary
santcuary
sanctuary

love and be loved.

if there is science a thousand feet below ground then we will add up to where you hide it's not easy but it's easy for you it's not easy but it's easy for you we are living in a world of atoms cutting into pairs and hairs and stares and glass bites you in the ass but it's easy for you it's easy for you we are trapped like rats in the day we over our tails, this life thing's a bitch.

i'm sleepy now.

i just realized that a few months ago god handed me something, but the silver platter was missing, so i didn't recognize it.

i feel like a melodramatic, self-indulgent, self-deluded, self-absorbed little ass.
and i am.

GOD FUCKING DAMNIT.

don't worry, i am irony aware.

i spent the past hour walking and listening to my minidisc player as loudly as possible. that managed to send me from a very pissy mood to a very good one. i like to arrange my minidiscs from very mopy music to very happy music with a few exceptions. that way, no matter where i start, i always finish feeling good.

i wonder why this week out of all the possible weeks that a cousin i haven't seen since i was two will visit. the only week i'll be free of school for a month. the only week i have any time to spend with the few people on the surface of this planet that i can stand.

i know i'm being selfish and unreasonable.
i should be happy.
eh, fuck that. i'm fucking pissed off.

well i'm gonna go sit in my room.
"concerned, yet powerless"

i was going to go to visit a friend on saturday, but i can't.
i have family coming over.
my god that's almost an archetype.
one of these days i'm gonna break down though.
that's how lovely i am.
lonely i am.
archetypes are fun!

today was nice.

i did nothing.

i really wish i could go hang out at someone's house or something, i haven't done anything like that since last year. i'll never get a ride anywhere though. tomorrow i have to go find out about some random volunteer position at the library. it's apparantly time that i start taking an interest in my future. oh yeah, i know it really is time i start taking an interest in my future, but i'm still resentful. my mother can be shockingly condescending and that evil woman knows it.

hell, she loves it.

i'm not gonna rant on it. i refuse to rant about my mom.

people wouldn't expect it from me, but i have some relatively deeply rooted rage issues. has your vision ever turned red? yeah.

i'm hungry. but i'm not gonna eat. oh i'll show her. you should see my silent treatment, well she may not notice because i almost never talk to her anyway. but whatever.

i saw the movie Kill Bill.

oh my god.

seriously, that movie was bloody freakin' brilliant. walt says it was on par with the matrix. definately as good/better than reloaded but i'm not sure how it stands up to the original.

seriously though, anyone reading this blog should go see that movie. yeah there's no plot, but i didn't even notice. i'm gonna see more taranteno films.

anyway, i made it through my two day week. these may very well have been the longest two days i've had in quite a while. but it wasn't that bad. the next three days will be pleasant.

there's this guy at my school. he listens to all the music that i do (most of it but that's still saying a lot, plenty of people are as subterraneanly aware as i but few of them are as enthusiastic) and he plays bass. my god i wanna start a band, my god i wanna start a band. i don't know where to go from that. and i barely know him, we have a class together and i'm friends with a number of his friends.

how do you travel on simple desire?

i'm gonna go eat.
sleep.
eat.

ps. that reminds me, my mom apparantly wants to give me five hundred dollars: if i can lose fifty pounds. so the question is: do i love food more than money? because i'm starting to think so. and that's bad.

i have wednesday, thursday, and friday off from school.

but there's one crap load of homework standing between me and said refuge.

god damn it.

well, i'll post more later...

(darn, i'm itching to fix up Metamorphosis)

umm metamorphosis has been changed, i'm still looking for a bettwr title. the poetry queen made me realize that putting the words metamorphosis in there is forcing kafka into this. i need to let the man breathe.

"Metamorphosis in Summer”

The sun will ruin my color
and remake me in gold.
The sharp-toothed emptiness of color
will fill me up.
After that:

My skin will shake apart,
my bones peeling like lima beans,
and radiation will fly from somewhere…
drafts crashing into
me as I fall upon a spike of sound.
I will be between thumbs and index digits from
suffocating and choking on air.

But that is the moment before I see how beautiful you become,
in the same summer,
on the same field,
as our souls, they expand like rose buds.
“It’s so warm here,”
I will realize as the panic of euphoria

is silenced.

I will sing from the moon,
for a mighty noise that jumps like silver,
and toys that burst
on the way to a new reality,
I will sing to the moon.
And I swear

I will be just a moment away from wings.
When I am golden.
Golden.

so now a total of two people know about this place. not that those people are not trust worthy, but i'm way too trusting.

today sucked. it started off sucking, got to be really good, then sucked some more.

i hate extremes.

i had the second batch of piano lessons, those were good, my first chord. yay!
my stepfather is making me angry, those little images i get when i think of him are getting more and more violent. i don't know why his blood is red and purple. or why everytime i hit him in the head with the hammer, his wound heals and i have to do it again. i think that i should start dreaming about something else.

i know!

i'm gonna go now.

i gave evan my blog address.

hi evan

i have to admit, i'm getting more and more self centered everyday.

ah;kn;/;,.,..,enp89nh7766g9o. ae;lghn498[a'hgj.
-You are neither codescending nor elitist.
-You are laughable.
-You are a joke.

that's a quote

goodbye.

Well, I did poorly in GoPo. Horribly (by my standards) in Latin.
We're not happy.

Theory of the Circle

ever notice that when people gather together, they tend to to get in some poorly shaped circle? yeah, i think it has less to do with some inherently Authurianesque (is that a word?) desire to be equals than it has to do with...
well, the idea of the circle to me has always engulfed images and vague references to the idea of perfection, infinity, absoluteness. i think you can find god with in the perfect circle. i have a slightly below entry level understanding of like physics and stuff. but i know that when energy or mass comes together all on it's own, it forms in circles (spheres actually, but those are just trillions of stacked circles). atoms, most molecules (with a billion more tangents of those bonds maybe), planets and stars. i think god lives within the circle, and i know you can't find a perfect circle occuring in nature. you'll never see it. but let's face it, you'll never see god...not for a while. humans that congregate together are inclined to form in circles maybe because of some natural instinct like a good number of other things in the universe to approach the perfect state of the universe. funny how people will circle each other when preparing to fight...but it can be a very violent universe oh yes it can.

i know the idea/theory is silly, poorly expressed, i can almost here my friendly neighborhood atheist chuckling and muttering under his breath (silly monotheist, religion is for kids).

but i think i will always be just a dreamer.

"that there
that's not me"

interpol is COMING TO RALEIGH next monday. and i can't go. damn you school night!

I have a GoPo (Government and Politics) test, and a latin test tomorrow.
I am fully prepared for neither.

*clutches chest*
*gasps*
*dies*

Built to Spill is a cool ass band. so far...

you know what? i try to live with as little delusion as possible. i try to escape pretensions from time to time, see things and myself as they are. it's an impossible thing to do. and it would be delusional in itself to have the audacity to think that i live without delusions. but i try. i can't do it from day to day though, it's too hard and the very idea of it makes life too depressing well, not depressing. but it makes life too dynamic. when you look at the world from a completely objectional view, you have to filter through every perspective, through light and dark. and that'll just hurt your eyes.

sometime you have to take out your eyes, and replace them with little balls of faith.

so why do people fear that?

i'm no idiot (ok maybe i am, you tell me), and i'm still pretty religious. that doesn't make me any less of a cynic, that doesn't make me an idealist. i hate going to church (african american southers baptists, *shudder*) , and i'm not a fan of organized religion in general (god and i don't need intermediaries). you don't have to be afraid of believing in...anything. i know too people so jaded that they're already afraid of trusting anything beyond what they see, without having gone through anything that damaging (then again, who am i to say that). i can't say i'm 100% secure in my faith, but i'm young, and i think that's what this point in my life is for.

i think everyone should have something to belive in. something bigger than them, the nature of which they can barely even theorize about (which is incedentally why i'm not really into eastern/pagan religions, all the deities are too...well defined, to characterized). something they can't prove or see short of through death or illusion. everyone needs to take that risk. needs to stop hiding in the trenches of science, drowning in the "real world".

i think it makes you a better person.

i know, i sound like a hippie. i know science is your god. maybe money. both. but don't knock it until you try it. it sounds archaic and silly, but try praying, to whatever or who'm ever, i mean we can call the universe by different names (here comes my monotheist streak) but it's basically the same thing. you can give it your own name. figure out the smaller stuff (anything having to do with Jesus or Mohammed, denomonations, etc.) later, or just feel like an idiot and say "fuck it".

burn a bridge.

i don't care anymore.

three day weekend for me = complete waste of time

i know it sounds like your typical pouty 15 year old, but i barely have any semblance of a social life, and once again i must admit that it's my fault more than anyone else's. i suppose that my parents hatred for driving me to...anywhere is a factor, but that's normal. certainly i'm not at the top of anyone's guest list when planning an event. but yeah, i can be anti social even with my own friends. i like being with people, but sometimes it makes me nervous as heck, and then i get defensive, so i climb into my homey lil' shell.

by the by, my twitch (the one in my neck) is back with a friggin' vengance. it's starting to leave me sore. i hope it doesn't mean anything bad. my mom says my tiny little muscle spasms are just messed up nerve endings. she's a nurse. well, a nurse with a master's degree. so she's like uber nurse. yes.

i should be doing homework. once again, i am not. i'm still like a hundred pages behind in le miz.

i should go downstairs and watch adult swim now. that has to be like the best two hours of television of programming per night ever.

speaking of popular (or not so popular) culture, i really really want to go see the movie kill bill. i know, pure corny little action flick. but no, i get the feeling that that's the point. and sometimes you can erase all substance in something and stylize something to the point where you can't recognize the lack of substance. and there's nothing wrong with that. case in point: interpol (they're still a GREAT band).

"A Wolf at the Door"

drag him out your window dragging out your dead singing i miss you snakes and ladders flip the lid out pops the cracker smacks you in the head knifes you in the neck kicks you in the teeth steel toe caps takes all your credit cards get up get the gunge get the eggs get the flan in the face the flan in the face the flan in the face dance you fucker dance you fucker don't you are don't you dare don't you flan in the face take it with the love is given take it with a pinch of alt take it to the taxman let me back let me back i promise to be good don't look in the mirror at he face you don't recognize help me call the doctor put me inside put me inside put me inside put me inside put me inside i keep the wolf from the door but he calls me up calls me on the one
tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up steal all my children if i don't pay the ransom but i'll never see him again if i squeal to the cops no no no no no no no? walking like giant cranes ah with my x ray eyes i strip you naked in a tight little world and why are you on the list?
stepford wives who are we to complain? investments and dealers investments and dealers cold wives and mistresses cold wives and sunday papers. city boys in first class don't know we're born little someone else is gonna come and clean it up born and raised for the job someone else always does always pick it up get over get up get over turn the tape off. i keep the wolf from the door but he calls me up calls me on the phone tells me all the ways that hes gonna mess me up steal all my children if i don't pay the ransom but i'll never see him again if i squeal to the cops so Im just gonna say...

- radiohead

yeah, that's a song. rantariffic.

that is all. (she's back)

i had a dream last night.

umm, fourteen kittens were brought to my home. they were really cute, i know one was brown, one was grey and one was white. the rest weren't really important. anyway, everyone thought the kittens were really cute, and we kept them for years (when we got them i was very little), but no one could ever fawn over them because they hated being touched, like they recognized their own fragility and didn't trust us to protect them. and they were so fast, if you tried to touch one they would start fidgeting really really fast until they were like a demonic ball of energy and they would speed away. it eventually got to the point where we never saw them, and we kinda forgot they were there. but one day, i'm sitting in my room, and it's cold so i turn on the fire place (right now the den of our house is working as a makeshift room for me, don't ask why). and as it starts to get warmer i realize that to of the kittens are sitting in front of the fireplace, then the words "it's so warm here" kind of eminates from one of them, and i decide that all the other kittens need to be in my room. so i go and look for them, and i find that four are hiding under some shoes in the living room (the grey, the white, the red, and one more). i manage to get the grey and the white (i didn't get the red), and they struggle, but i get them to my room and they calm and get kinda happy and play with the other four kittens. and as i'm going to get the other two, i realize that eight kittens are missing. and that thay'll never come back. and i can't move. not even to get the other two kittens.

i wonder what mr. subconscious wants me to know.
i think it has something to do with my early childhood.
i think the red kitted had something to do with love.
when i woke up i wrote the first song i've written in months.
it's piss poor too, but it's going somewhere.

"recourse"

when i first set you
i solidified.
my heart stood and froze,
as sight bleed from my eyes.

when i met you
my soul was defined.

and i ask what you want
what you want
what you want.

lost in stereo.

i'm taking piano and guitar lessons (again). i'm excited, piano lessons are starting off pretty boring though. i'm taking them from jame's wonderful grandmother, but the stuff i'm playing isn't very good, even as beginners piano playing goes.

otherwise life has calmed a bit (no longer wishing that i could disapear), on the otherhand, a good number of my twitches (ok only 2) and one of my little nervous ticks have returned in the past two weeks, so maybe i'm just suppressing some things. maybe i just have a few normal little oddities.

i went to a writing workshop after school today. i hafta say that may have been the best experience i've had in a while. and my god, sean is the funniest writer ever. otherwise i hafta say there are some freakin' talented people at my school. but i felt like i was there with them. i can't say that i consider myself to be talented (to be honest, maybe just a lil), but i didn't feel uncomfortable, left behind, stuck in the mud with them. it's nice.

lately i feel like i've been mooching too much off my mother. i suppose it's only because our little tussles (you know, arguments) have increased lately, but we have such a good relationship, minus the secret loathing.

i'm very hungry now.

goodbye.

inside of me there is a jar.
this jar,
it grows and shrinks
depending on the day.
this jar is filled
by a good portion of all
the negative emotions i've felt, ever.
they take the forms of tiny glowing scripts;
some ancient language,
whispering secret obscenities into the air.
they buzz.
they busy themselves.
i can't open this jar whenever i want to.
i can't open it at all.
this jar will only respond to the hand of my environment.
i know it's not healthy to have such a jar.
in fact it's down right stupid.
and anyway lately there have been leaks.
small ones, tiny ones,
insignificant little leaks.
the kinds that spring forth in the most uncomfortable moments.
infrequently but just enough to do violence.
and i don't want this jar to leak,
i'm not ready for it.

[/melodrama]

you know, i haven't been in the best of moods lately. i wonder why. i am therefore determined to end on a positive note.

"F.U.N"

F is for friends who do stuff together,
U is for you and me,
N is for anywhere, anytime at all,
Down here in the deep blue sea!
F. Is for fire that burns down the whole town,
U is for uranium.. bombs!
N is for no survivors WHEN YOU...
F is for frolic through all the flowers,
U is for ukelele,
N is for nose picking, sharing gum and sand licking, here with my best buddy.

- SpongeBob Square Pants
ft. Plankton

that is all.